
You don't make homes out of things
but out of people
that's what people say
but then why does home remind me of
dead rose plants, a broken window, a lime tree,
a loft with a cat, grime over books,
postcards over grime,
boiled rice and potatoes on Saturdays,
and a crumpled cotton saree with my mother's fragrance
that I can no longer hold on to.